


Three Times Simon Called Raphael

by raphaelsontiago



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 3+1 Things, Character Death, M/M, Post 1x13, dont read this i made a mistake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 21:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6875101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raphaelsontiago/pseuds/raphaelsontiago
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>. . . and the one time Clary had to call Raphael for him</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Times Simon Called Raphael

1.

The first time Simon called Raphael, it was a week after the Camille incident. The Institute was buzzing with action and everyone was talking about finding Jace. Simon knew Jace was important, he really did, but it would have be nice to be acknowledged once in a while. The most he got was a small smile from Isabelle, which was followed by Alec dismissing him from the room. Apparently, the “No Mundanes Allowed” tree house also extended its warm treatment to downworlders. 

It didn’t hit him how much he missed Raphael until he met Maryse Lightwood. Clary had stocked the fridge with bottles of animal blood, and Simon was looking through it when he first saw the woman. He took out one of the bottles, and eased a grin onto his face.

“Good morning.” Simon’s greeting was met with a sneer. Maryse said nothing to him as she passed by. All she did was stare at him disgustedly and made an offhanded remark about bloodsuckers.

It was at that moment Simon realized he was alone. 

Simon sat in his room, staring at his phone. His thumb hovered over Raphael’s contact. It was there he saw Raphael, eyebrows quirked ever so slightly in the contact photo, a smirk playing at his lips. He remembered the conversation they had right before that picture was taken. Simon was trying to convince Raphael to watch Star Wars with him. He promised he would try extra extra hard in training that day if he would just sit down and watch it. The elder vampire found his ramblings about the Skywalkers amusing and fought a grin off of his face. That was when he snapped the picture, when Raphael wasn’t expecting it. Simon was struck by how beautiful he looked when he actually loosened up and he made himself a vow that he would get Raphael to truly smile for him, just once. 

He never got the chance.

With a sigh, Simon pushed the call button and prayed Raphael would pick up. Naturally, it went straight to voicemail.

“Raphael? Um. . . It’s. . . It’s Simon. I know you don’t want to hear from me. . . I mean, you want me dead. . . That’s pretty uh. . . Anyways, I wanted to apologize. I messed up. I know I have Clary here, but it’s. . . It’s not the same. The shadowhunters aren’t family to me and I don’t think they ever will be. They. . . They’re not you.” Simon chewed on his lip, trying to come up with something, anything else, to say, but he came up empty. He cleared his throat awkwardly and hung up, the picture of Raphael smirking still looming in the back of his mind.

 

2.

The second time Simon called, he was drunk. After the first time, he never spent much time outside of his room and Isabelle took pity on him. She grabbed him by the arm and took him to a downworlder party. Lucky him, they had a lead on Valentine there, or else Izzy would have never gotten permission to take him. 

She slid him a spiked blood shot with a pitying gaze. Absently, Simon thought that, in the past, he would’ve crushed on Isabelle. She was certainly a lovely girl, with her dark hair falling over her tan shoulders, and the smile that could light up a room. This would’ve been his opportune time to ask her out too, at a bar with dozens of witnesses so she’d feel guilty about saying no. However, the only one Simon could think about was Raphael. 

I’m disappointed in you. 

Kill them.

The words rang in his head as if it were just yesterday. He would take everything back if he could. It was selfish, but he lost his family for a second time that day, and nothing was worth that pain. 

“Simon?” Isabelle put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m okay.” He smiled reassuringly at her and picked up the shot glass.

Six shots later, Simon was hammered. As it turns out, he’s a bit of a lightweight. He looked around for Isabelle and found her flirting with a warlock girl. Shaking his head amusedly, he found himself staring at his phone again. 

Before he knew what he was doing, he called Raphael.

“Raaaph, why won’ you ansser me? Are you still upset ‘bout tha’ Camille thingy ‘cause I’m sorry. I’m so so so so sorry. Clary was all I had and. . . and I di’nt know that I had you. You with your pouty lips and stupid eyebrows. Not like your eyebrows are stupid. Your eyebrows are nice. They got a goood shape to them. Does Lily do them or do you jus’ draw ‘em on? . . . Hello?” Simon hiccuped and fell into a fit of giggles. “Sorry. Forgot you didn’t answer. Anywho, I miss your face. And you. And home. I miss home too.”

Simon saw Isabelle frown and start making her way over to him, leaving the warlock girl behind. 

“I miss it. I miss you callin’ me an idiot in spanish and. . . and I miss the way your perfect eyebrows do tha’ thing where they bend or whatever when you concen. . . concentrate. . . It was cute.” Simon sighed and rested his head in the hand not holding the phone. 

“Raph, I-” He was just about to finish his sentence when Izzy snatched his phone from him and hung up.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Her tone wasn’t necessarily mean. It was soft, concerned almost. Simon cast his eyes away from her, sniffling slightly as a bloody tear made its way down his face.

“Oh, Simon.” She sighed, brushing the tear away with her thumb. “How about we go back to the Institute?” 

Simon was glad she didn’t say home. 

 

3.

The last time Simon called Raphael, it was before a mission. They had finally found Valentine’s ship, and they were finally going to win. The odds were stacked in favor of the shadowhunters and Jace was coming back that night. Everyone knew it. 

The odds were stacked in the shadowhunters’ favor. Not Simon’s. 

The plan was simple. Get in. Find Jace. Get out. Of course, that was how the shadowhunters explained it. The real plan was to send Simon in as the distraction. The ritual they discovered Valentine attempting required vampire blood. That narrowed down the list of options considerably. Since the Raphael had cut ties with them, the only vampire ally the shadowhunters had was Simon. 

So, it was decided. Simon would be the distraction as Clary and the Lightwoods stormed the ship. Another expendable downworlder life contributed to the greater good of the angels. Go figure.

Simon scrolled through his phone to find his sister’s contact, wanting to at least send a text explaining the situation. His throat closed up, seeing Raphael’s name shine bright in his phone. Gathering every bit of courage within him, Simon hit call.

Voicemail. Again. 

“Raphael? It’s me. . . Again. I’m about to do something really really stupid, and this is usually the point in which you’d stop me. Please. Just stop me. Do anything. I can’t d-. . . I can’t go on, thinking that you’ll hate me forever. I don’t even know if you’ll listen to this, but. . . I want you to know that. . . this might be the last voicemail you ever get from me. Exciting, right?” A humorless laugh escaped him. “You’ll be happy to hear that. After today, I won’t be around to bother you anymore. . . So, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything. I never realized how much you did for me. You took me in when you could’ve left me for dead. So, thank you. Thank you for everything I never had the chance to thank you for. Thank you for saving my life. Thank you for looking after me. For accepting me. Giving me a home. For making me feel like I wasn’t a monster, no matter how fleeting that feeling was.”

“Simon, we have to go!” Clary’s voice called from downstairs.

“And thank you. For showing me that love wasn’t impossible, even for someone as damned as I am.” With those final words hanging in the air, Simon hung up.

 

+1.

As soon as Raphael heard Simon’s latest voicemail, he knew something was wrong.

When the shadowhunter girl called him not long after, he knew something was really wrong.

“What do you want?” Raphael answered, for the first time in months, injecting as much steel into his voice as possible.

“It’s Simon.” The Fairchild girl sobbed from over the phone. “He. . . Oh god, there was so much blood and. . .” 

The image of Simon’s dead body appeared Raphael’s mind. He was the one who found the fledgling after Camille got to him, lying in a pool of his own blood. He was still alive, twitching slightly as crimson liquid poured out of him in gallons. His eyes were glazed over, and he made faint gurgling sounds as Raphael ran over to him, kneeling by his side.

"R-Raphael", he had choked out. Raphael had known Simon wasn’t making it out of this one. Not this time. He held him and stroked his hair soothingly, whispering comforting words in Spanish, as the life slowly drained out of Simon. 

The thought that that happened again terrified him. He wanted to believe Simon wasn’t dead. He tried fooling himself into thinking he would’ve felt it, but their connection was too weak. Simon wasn’t really in the clan anymore, no matter how much Raphael wished he was.

“Where is he?” Raphael said as calmly as he could, which, as it happens, wasn’t very calm at all.

“The institute.” Raphael hung up, and made what would’ve been a twenty minute walk into a three minute run. 

And there was Simon. The boy who rambled about Star Wars and offered to pay him for an entire new selection of jackets laid on a bed, with more blood showing than skin. 

The Fairchild girl was still crying, and the Lightwood girl had an arm wrapped around her. 

“Do you want us to give you a moment?” Raphael nodded absently, entranced by the sight of Simon, the clan’s Simon, his Simon, brokenly laying there, the most still Raphael had ever seen him.

The room cleared and Raphael was left alone. Slowly, he moved to sit by Simon’s side, taking his fledgling’s limp hand into his own, and, for a while, Raphael remained silent, content with how they sat. 

“I know you can’t hear me, but. . . I listened to your voicemails, and you must be a bigger idiot than I thought if you think I ever wanted this for you. I don’t want you dead, Simon. I never did. I was mad, yes. Furious, actually. But, I don’t want you dead. In fact, I want to thank you too. For everything I never thanked you for. So, thank you for forcing me to watch that stupid geek movie with you. Thank you for telling those terrible jokes that still managed to make my day. For bringing light to the hotel, when everything seemed dim. For teaching me how to live instead of just surviving.” Raphael held back tears that threatened to fall. “And thank you. For loving me, when I thought I was too damned to be loved.” 

Raphael leaned down and kissed Simon’s forehead.

“Te amo, Simon Lewis.”


End file.
